They were alone. He was alone.
“Please,” he said, digging his hands deeper into his pockets against the cold, “please get into the car.”
THE IMPASSE BY JAMES BUCHANAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 60
Her eyes were wide, filled with rage and seething. She was no longer in possession of herself.
Her rages came like Nor’ Easters. Pulsing storms that lasted for a few days, a week, then dissip…